Chapter 13: A Rough Patch?

August 5, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

By Wednesday evening, I’d basically settled into my new routine. After contemplating the idea of rinsing out my t-shirts and shorts and reusing them, I’d asked Rachel’s advice and then done what she’d suggested — gone to Venture and bought a five-pack of plain white t-shirts, five pairs of inexpensive shorts, and five pairs of tube socks. It had used a fair bit of my clothing budget, such as it was, but as she’d pointed out, I’d have truly clean clothes each day.

My new routine was fairly simple — wake up, eat, read the Chicago Tribune, lift weights, shower, dress, make my lunch, cycle to Spurgeon, shower, work, eat lunch, work, cycle home, shower, make dinner, read The Wall Street Journal, study, sleep. The only deviations would be Friday night, Saturday, and Sunday, when I’d see my friends, plus have Sunday dinner with my aunt and uncle. From my perspective, everything was falling into place. Literally the only negatives were two girls — Charlotte and Cousin Lisa — with bad attitudes. Fortunately, I could ignore Lisa except for a few hours on Sunday. Charlotte was a bigger problem, as I had to work with her.

My thoughts were interrupted by someone knocking at the door. I got up from the couch and went over to the door and opened it.

“Hi!” Lily said, flashing a broad smile.

“Hi! What’s up?”

“Whatcha doing?” she asked.

“I was just about to study some stuff for work. Why?”

“I brought Cokes. Want one?”

“Sure,” I replied, accepting the open bottle. “Should we sit on the steps?”

Lily rolled her sparkling blue eyes in response.

“Because my mom hollered at me the other day?”

I nodded, “That is what I was thinking about.”

“The old lady is a real pain in my butt! I think her goal in life is to make sure I never have any fun! My parents are out and won’t be home for at least an hour. We can sit in the air conditioning, if you want.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble, and I don’t want to get in trouble. I only moved in five days ago.”

“Parents suck,” she groused. “If we sit inside, I promise I’ll leave before they could possibly be home.”

“And if they come back early?” I asked. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love some company, but you’re seventeen, right?”

“And you’re nineteen?”

“Eighteen. I’ll be nineteen in November.”

“And I’ll be eighteen in October! You’re not even a year older than I am!”

“True. But I think the issue your parents would have was you being alone in my room.”

“Obviously. They won’t be home early. I’m sure. This is their normal ‘date night’ and they never get home before 9:30pm.”

I considered briefly, flicking my eyes over the pretty blonde girl with a nice figure wearing a pale yellow sundress, and hormones overcame brains.

“Then come in,” I replied.

She smiled broadly and we went into my apartment, and I shut the door against the heat and humidity outside. I waited and when Lily sat on the loveseat, I sat on the couch, to keep a bit of distance between us.

“When does school start?” I asked.

“September 8th, which is the day after Labor Day.”

“How do you get to school?”

“I can take the CTA, but usually my mom or dad drop me off on their way to work. I either take the bus home or get a ride with one of my friends’ parents. I saw you’re riding your bike to and from work. What will you do if it rains?”

“Get wet,” I replied with a grin. “I have to shower at work anyway. I think the only difficulty will come when it gets too cold, but then I’ll take the L. Do you plan to go to college?”

“Probably UICC because it’s cheap, I can live at home, and walk to classes.”

“What do you want to study?”

“I want to be a teacher, and I was thinking grade school, so I guess that’s ‘elementary education’, which means basically studying everything so I can teach little kids basic math, reading, science, and social studies.”

“I’m curious that you would want to live at home if you think your parents are too strict.”

“Money. I guess the same reason you’re renting this apartment from my dad instead of a nicer place.”

“It is inexpensive, but I love it. It’s perfect for a single guy, and everything I need is close.”

“That girl who helped you clean and stuff isn’t your girlfriend?”

“As I said, she’s a friend who’s a girl. I’ve taken her out a few times, but that’s it. You’ll probably see her, and my other friends who were here on Sunday, around quite a bit. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I wish! I go to a school that’s all girls, and between my parents and the nuns, it’s tough to have a boyfriend. We have mixers with other schools, you know, that are all boys, but everyone is super strict. But once I start college, I’m sure I’ll meet lots of guys. Did you have a girlfriend back home?”

“There was a girl I spent a lot of time with, but it wasn’t too serious; she’s seeing another guy now because I moved away.”

“What do you do at work?”

“Whatever they tell me!” I grinned. “I work in the mailroom, so I deliver and pick up the mail, stock the supply cabinets, run errands, and generally ask ‘how high?’ when my boss says ‘jump!’.”

“Do you like it?”

“It’s a job. I work hard, stay busy all day, and I have opportunities for promotion within the company. Do you have a job?”

“Nope! I’m a bum! Despite me complaining about my old lady being on the rag all the time, I have it pretty good. I get an allowance, can drive the car, have my own TV, and they’re mostly cool about my friends. It’s really only boys that cause them to act nuts.”

“So your solution is to come spend time alone with me in my room?” I asked with a grin.

Lily laughed softly, “You seemed like a really nice guy, and I wanted to get to know you. That’s why I came over. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, I don’t mind. Parents can be touchy about boyfriends and girlfriends, especially dads when their daughter is interested in a guy or vice versa.”

“My dad is actually pretty cool. It’s my mom who’s the problem. What do you do for fun?”

“Whatever my friends suggest, really. I’m new to Chicago, and back home I was in school and working, or working two jobs when school was out.”

“How’d you meet those guys?”

“One of them, Stuart, almost ran me over on his bike. He’s a bike messenger and was riding on the sidewalk when I came out of the Sears Tower. He swerved to miss me and took a tumble. We talked, decided to have a beer together, and he introduced me to Tom, Dustin, and their girlfriends. My other female friend I met at work.”

“Would you mind if I hang out with you on Wednesdays when my parents are out?”

“No, so long as there’s no trouble.”

“We could have dinner, if you wanted. I cook pretty well!”

“That sounds fun, so long as you won’t get into trouble.”

“I won’t. What time are you home from work?”

“Call it 6:00pm which gives me time to bike home and shower.”

“Cool. That’s about when my parents leave for dinner and a movie.”

“Every Wednesday?”

“They started that in college and I guess they’ve been doing it for about twenty-two years now.”

“A movie every week?”

“Well, sometimes a concert or a play, but something, yeah.”

“If your parents are OK with it, my friends are coming over on Saturday and we’re going to barbecue ribs and boil corn on the cob.”

“We’re going to be in Racine visiting my grandparents for the day. I don’t think I can weasel out of that, either.”

“Don’t do anything to upset your mom or make her suspicious!”

“She’s been suspicious since I turned thirteen!”

Given that my very first impression of Lily had been ‘fox’, I could understand that completely.

“That sounds a bit like my friend Bev’s dad back home. But he knew me so well that he let his guard down, and didn’t give Bev and me too much trouble.”

We finished our Cokes and Lily decided to go back to the house to make sure there were no issues. I walked out with her and watched her cute butt sway back and forth as she went down the stairs and walked across the driveway to the house. When she reached the door, she turned and waved, then went inside. I went back into my room, shut the door, and took out the binder to continue my studies.

August 7, 1981, Chicago, Illinois

“What do you want to do tonight?” I asked Rachel at lunch on Friday.

“I’ve been thinking about things we could do which didn’t cost much. You rode your bike, right?”

“Yes. I realized after I got to work that I probably should have asked you yesterday if I should ride or take the L. That sort of limits things to around here, and then I have to ride home. But I also have to get my bike out of the loading dock before 6:00pm, so that sort of makes a real mess.”

“It might sound a bit strange, but how about you ride home and I take the L to your place, and then we have dinner in Greek Town. There’s a really inexpensive place called Mr. Greek Gyros where we could eat.”

“I found that when I was exploring a few weeks ago. I had my first gyro and loved it, so I’m game!”

“Good. UICC has some kind of concert tonight, and admission is only $2.00. I’m not sure what kind of music, though.”

“Anything is fine,” I replied. “Next week, we’ll talk about it on Thursday. I really should have thought about it before I rode my bike to work today.”

“It’s OK! It’s the first Friday after you moved. We’ll plan better for next week. Remember, teamwork, right?”

“Thanks for letting me off the hook.”

“You didn’t do it maliciously, so it’s no big deal. Would you come to dinner next week?”

“A second dinner?” I asked with a silly grin. “That seems risky!”

Rachel laughed, “I’m not ready to marry even if my dad gives his approval! Rebecca and Luke didn’t get engaged for some time after my dad said that!”

“But they DID get engaged!” I protested, continuing to grin sillily.

“And it would be a fate worse than death to marry me and share a bed together?”

“I didn’t say THAT!” I chuckled. “But I’d say we have at least a few years before we even seriously consider that step! But dinner is fine; I’d like that.”

“Good!”

We finished our lunches and went back into the building, with Rachel taking the passenger elevator up to 35 and with me taking the freight elevator to 34. I still found it strange because I was wearing nice slacks, a button-down shirt, a dark-blue tie, and loafers, which was basically the uniform the Suits wore. But the rules were the rules, and I was in no position to buck them, nor did I feel a need to do so.

Charlotte appeared to have survived another week, but I still felt she was expending the bare minimum effort. I had hoped her warning would change her attitude, but it seemed to have hardened it, and I didn’t look forward to having her involved in moving the company from 444 N. Michigan to the Hancock building. She’d likely do the bare minimum over that three-day weekend, which would mean even more work for me, Nick, and Mr. Nelson.

During my afternoon break I went to Personnel to fill out the request form for opening a brokerage account. I filled in all the blanks and handed it back to the secretary.

“It will take about a week to establish the account. We’ll send you the paperwork when it’s ready. From then on, you will deal with one of two traders — Mr. Jackson or Mr. Steinem. You call them, place your orders, and they’ll tell you the settlement details. The money will be withdrawn directly from your bank account via draft.”

“Thanks!” I said.

I headed back to the mailroom and was immediately sent by Nick to see Mr. Nelson.

“Kane, I need you to go to the security office,” he said, then seeing the concern on my face, added, “Relax, you aren’t in trouble. A suit is getting the axe and security always does those. You and the secretary will box up his stuff, then bring it down here and arrange to have it couriered to his house. Get moving.”

“Yes, Boss!” I replied.

I went down the hall, past Personnel and walked into the security office which was full of video monitors and tape machines.

“Kane,” I said. “Mailroom.”

“Will Suffolk,” the security man said. “Grab a seat. We’ll go up in about five minutes. I’m just waiting on the call from Personnel.”

‘Up’ meant someone on 35, which meant someone fairly important. The company was quite stratified, with 35 being more important than 34, and the closer a person’s office was to Noel Spurgeon, the more important they were. I was sure that if it were possible for the mailroom to be in a sub-basement, that’s where we would be, along with maintenance, and probably security. Those two groups were the only ones who didn’t wear the company colors — maintenance wore khaki-colored coveralls and security wore navy blue blazers with the company logo stitched on them.

About three minutes later Mrs. Peterson came into the room and told Mr. Suffolk she was ready. He waved to me and we followed Mrs. Peterson to the freight elevator. Mr. Suffolk used his key to enable the button for 35, and about twenty seconds later we exited the elevator. It seemed that people on the floor knew what our approach signaled, because I saw sheer terror change to extreme relief as we passed each office, finally stopping at the office of Jack Gilham.

“Mr. Gilham?” Mrs. Peterson said.

“Yes?” he asked, looking as if he’d seen a ghost.

“You’re being terminated immediately for violation of SEC regulations.”

“What?!” he gasped, leaping to his feet. “I did no such thing!”

“Here’s a letter detailing the violations and notifying you of your termination,” she said, handing him the letter. “The SEC will be notified by the end of business today. Now, please surrender your id, keys, and key card, and go with Mr. Suffolk from security. Your secretary and Jonathan from the mailroom will pack your personal items under my supervision and we’ll have them couriered to you.”

“But I didn’t!” he protested.

“Mr. Gilham,” Mr. Suffolk said firmly, “now, please.”

Mr. Gilham looked as if he might be ready to attack Mrs. Peterson, but Mr. Suffolk stepped between them. I moved out of the way, and after a brief staring match, Mr. Gilham walked out of his office.

“SPURGEON!” he yelled down the hallway, “YOU ARE GOING DOWN!”

Mr. Suffolk guided him towards the freight elevators and Mrs. Peterson waved me in, then called in his secretary, Ellen Hayes.

“Let’s make a quick survey,” Mrs. Peterson said. “Ellen, please make a list. Jonathan, once we figure out what we need, you’ll go get boxes from 34 and bring them up and help pack.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I replied.

It took about ten minutes to determine what items belonged to Mr. Gilham and I went downstairs to get my cart, four boxes, and some newsprint for wrapping fragile items. I took everything back upstairs and assembled the boxes. Ellen handed me items which I either put directly into the box or wrapped and then put into the box, while Mrs. Peterson kept close track. It took about twenty minutes to pack up, and after Mrs. Peterson made a copy of the inventory, she sent me downstairs to arrange for the courier.

“Who?” Nick asked when I pushed my cart into the mailroom.

“Jack Gilham,” I replied. “Mrs. Peterson said SEC violations.”

“Jesus, what a fuck-up!” Nick said. “If there is ONE thing, I mean ONE thing that will instantly have you out on your ass here it’s even a hint of an SEC violation. Did she say what?”

“No. But she used ‘violations’, plural. And said it would be reported.”

“We have to,” he said. “If we don’t, the entire firm could go down. As it is, all hell will break loose because there will be an SEC investigation.”

“This has happened before?”

“Once I know of. Guy was getting inside information on Boeing from his brother-in-law. We paid a fine, the trader lost his license and went to jail, and the brother-in law was fired by Boeing.”

“There are no short-cuts,” Mr. Nelson said from behind me. “There’s always some idiot who thinks he can game the system, and they always get caught. This is the third one since I started here. Boyles, make sure those boxes go out, insured. Double-seal them with the special tape and keep a copy of the inventory.”

“Yes, Boss!” Nick said.

We sealed everything, I made a copy of the inventory, Nick put the original in a plastic manifest holder which he attached to the boxes, and then we wrote the name address, and box number on each box. Nick called the courier and I went back to my work area.

The rest of the afternoon was routine, except for the courier arriving to take the boxes away, and after I clocked out, I met Rachel in the lobby to confirm our plans. She left and I went down to the loading dock to get my bike. About an hour later we were walking north on Halsted toward Mr. Greek Gyros.

“That was a bit scary this afternoon,” Rachel said. “I wasn’t sure what was going on, but obviously when the Director of Personnel and Security show up it’s obvious someone is in big trouble.”